Your eyes testified of agony and of battles fought and lost in loneliness, yet a tender vulnerability peered through, calling out to be embraced.
Soft uncertainty carried your voice in a melodious minor key, and it was easy to listen.
You feet were weary to the bone from your wanderings.
There HAD to be a place to rest – where bloody feet and tortured thoughts could begin to heal.
One day, exhausted beyond sense, you stumble into welcoming arms, open and enveloping. Though you feel their strength, you are not afraid. You lean your forehead into His chest and allow Him to hold you tight.
Even stronger than you first thought, He now lifts and carries you close to His heart. You utter a small sigh from the unexpected sense of safety, and a whimper escapes, as from a child who has cried hard and long.
The expression in His eyes turns a deeper shade of tenderness, as His scarred hand gently strokes your hair. Your soul echoes His Words, “And no one can snatch them out of My hand.”
– Written by my lifelong mentor, Brita, who loved me like that. May that love, His love, spread like rings in the water of our lives.
“Can a woman forget her nursing child,
And not have compassion on the son of her womb?
Surely they may forget,
Yet I will not forget you.”